FifthYear
by Athena Farhibide
Summary: Harry's Fifth year at Hogwarts. This story includes a lot of references to the previous four books, as well as some rumors I've heard about the fifth.
1. A Bad Beginning

iNone of these characters are mine. This is my first fanfic, so please be gentle!pCHAPTER I -- A Bad Beginning  
  
pNot for the first time that day, had nearly fifteen-year-old Harry Potter stuffed his fore-fingers in his ears and buried his head under his pillow to drown out the thuds and shouts coming from the next room. Harry's owl, Hedwig squawked and fluttered in her cage as the floorboards shook beneath her. The source of the noise and vibrations was Harry's cousin Dudley, no doubt throwing another tantrum because his brand-new computer had once again stopped working. Dudley seemed to be having the worst summer of his entire life. During the previous school year his diet had begun to take a small but apparent effect and now that school was over Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had, on the insistence of Dudley's school nurse, enrolled him in a summer sports program. Every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would take a grumpy Dudley to rugby practice where he would heave and puff his way through one grueling play after another. Lucky for Dudley he was good at hitting people.  
  
pYes, lucky for Dudley, but unlucky for Harry, who now had to endure almost constant temper tantrums and was forced to look over his shoulder continuously, lest Dudley should try to tackle him. Dudley threw his first tantrum that day at the breakfast table over his grapefruit quarter.  
  
p"I DON'T WANT THIS JUNK ANYMORE", Dudley shouted, banging his dimpled fist on the table, rattling the plates.  
  
p"But, Duddums your diet...your school nurse thinks it best to--", Aunt Petunia began.  
  
p"I DON'T CARE! I WANT CRUNCHIE-PUFFS", he bellowed, chins jiggling.  
  
p"Now, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said, peering over the top of his newspaper. "The nurse thinks you could still stand to lose a little weight."  
  
p"I HAVE LOST WEIGHT!" Dudley pounded the table so hard, Harry's plate jumped and spun in place, his grapefruit quarter teetering dangerously near the edge. He grabbed it before it could roll off of the table.  
  
p"Diddy, please! Only a little while longer and then it will be over," Aunt Petunia crooned. But Dudley would have none of it.  
  
p"CRUNCHIE-PUFFS NOW! I WANT MY---CRUNCH---"  
  
pCrunch was right. Dudley had stomped his feet so hard and pounded his fist so heavily that the extra stress on his chair caused it to collapse. Dudley landed hard on his ample bottom on the kitchen floor, but didn't miss a beat. He threw his head back, howled, kicked and pounded both fists into the floor. Harry scarfed his grapefruit as quickly as he could and crept out of the kitchen amid all of the confusion. He was a few steps past his old cupboard before realizing that this would be the perfect opportunity to grab some books. The fact that he probably could have heard Dudley's shouts of protest and Aunt Petunia's cooing ('how hard this diet has been on my poor fragile boy!') upstairs, was a good indication that no one would be coming out of the kitchen anytime soon to catch him. He carefully pulled back the latch and swung the door open before it had a chance to creak. Inside the cupboard was his trunk containing all of his school books, his wand, and robes. On top of the trunk was his most treasured possession: his Firebolt racing broom. It was given to him two years ago by his godfather, Sirius Black.  
  
pHe lifted the broom gingerly and set it outside of the cupboard while he rummaged in his trunk for the right books and extra parchment. Suddenly, he heard Uncle Vernon's voice above Dudley's wails and thuds.  
  
p"Well, I'm off! See you this evening Petunia. Have a good day Dudders!"  
  
pHarry stood up swiftly, forgetting he was in the closet and banging his head on the door frame. Uncle Vernon was going to come out of the kitchen! He grabbed what books he could, a handful of parchment, and a quill. He shut the cupboard door with his hip and managed, somehow to fasten the latch with his elbow before dashing upstairs, his arms full. He made it to the landing and threw himself around the corner just as he heard Uncle Vernon pass through the foyer and exit through the front door. Harry waited until he heard the car engine start before crossing back over the landing and entering his bedroom. He breathed a sigh of relief and dumped his books on his bed before remembering something rather important. The Firebolt.  
  
pHe dashed as silently as he could back down the stairs and looked around the corner into the hall. It was gone. Harry tiptoed through the hallway and stopped facing the cupboard. He was sure he had left the broom leaning against the wall but now it wasn't there. Intending to make sure Aunt Petunia wouldn't come out of the kitchen and catch him looking in the cupboard, he glided up to the closed kitchen door and pressed his ear against the glass. Dudley must have gone outside because the kitchen was quiet except for a low rasping sound. What was that noise? Then it hit him like a brick in the face. Aunt Petunia was cleaning up after Dudley. Aunt Petunia was sweeping the floor. Aunt Petunia was sweeping up Dudley's mess with the FIREBOLT! In shock, Harry burst through the kitchen door. Aunt Petunia stopped sweeping and looked up, broom in hand.  
  
p"What do YOU want?" she nearly shrieked. Harry, realizing what he was doing could only stammer.  
  
p"Um...er. That's my...er...that broom is...it's...er..," he said, heart thudding, pointing at the now cruddy and disheveled Firebolt.  
  
p"GO OUTSIDE AND WATER THE LAWN", Aunt Petunia shouted before Harry could speak again. She continued sweeping.  
  
pSick to the stomach, Harry trudged outside. It was so horrible it should have been illegal.  
  
p+ + + + +   
  
pLater that evening after dinner, when Uncle Vernon and Dudley went to the grocery to buy more grapefruit, and Aunt Petunia stepped out onto the lawn to gossip with Mrs. Next-Door, Harry snuck downstairs and retrieved his now battered Firebolt from the cupboard. He sat on his bed for a long time choking back tears, the Firebolt across his lap. Using the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had sent him for his birthday a few years ago, it took him most of the night to fix the physical damage that Aunt Petunia had inflicted on his world-class racing broom. He wondered if it would even fly. Around 3:00 a.m., he finally fell into a fitful sleep. 


	2. An Improbable Ally

CHAPTER II -- An Improbable Ally

Always on Dudley's birthday, Harry was sent to stay with Mrs. Figg, an elderly woman who lived on Privet Drive, while Dudley, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and one of Dudley's friends spent the day at various attractions. Up until a few years ago, the stay at Mrs. Figg's was a painfully boring experience, during which Harry was forced to endure long hours of Mrs. Figg's cats. On Dudley's eleventh birthday, Mrs. Figg broke her leg tripping over one of those very same creatures, causing her to lose her liking for them and landing Harry a once in a lifetime trip to the zoo with the Dursleys. Since her fall, the stays at Mrs. Figg's house on Dudley's birthday had been much less stuffy and a good deal more enjoyable. Harry usually still dreaded them a bit of course, but this year was different. A day without a Dudley tantrum was like a day in heaven.

As the weather was unusually fine, Mrs. Figg and Harry sat on two grubby plastic chairs at a grubby plastic table in her back lawn to have lunch. As he and Mrs. Figg sat in silence eating their cold chicken sandwiches, Harry began to notice something unusual about the shrubs on Mrs. Figg's lawn. Even though there wasn't the slightest breeze, the shrubs would shiver every few moments and then become still again. Mrs. Figg noticed his stare and turned to look at the shrubs.

"Oh, those birds are building another nest in my bushes are they," she said a little too loudly with exaggerated unconcern. Harry was sure he saw a faint glimmer of a smile in the corners of her mouth before she took another bite. Harry followed suit but nearly spat it back out onto his plate the next moment. Were his eyes deceiving him, or did he just see a gnome dash between the shrubs?

"Er, Mrs. Fig," Harry said slowly still staring at the spot where the gnome disappeared. "What was that?"

"It's the birds, dear. How's your sandwich," she asked quickly. Her mouth definitely twitched this time. Harry was sure something strange was going on, but tried hard to ignore it. The last thing he wanted was for Mrs. Figg to tell the Dursleys he had been behaving abnormally.

As their meal wound to a close, Harry was beginning to believe he had just imagined the gnome. A Gnome on Privet Drive was not only impossible, it was laughable. It was almost like trying to imagine Dudley in Diagon Alley. 

Just as he swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, a barn owl swooped down from the sky and dropped a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest on the peeling table top. An icy cold feeling settled in his stomach. When the Dursleys arrived home this evening, Mrs. Figg would tell them all about his strange behavior. One mention of the letter-carrying owl and he would be done for.

Mrs. Figg suddenly burst into cackling fits of laughter, and as Harry reached sheepishly for the letter she stopped abruptly, watching him closely and biting her trembling bottom lip, an expression of hilarity frozen on her face. She looked as though she could explode again at any moment.

"Erm...sorry about that...", he mumbled and turned the envelope over to see who had sent it. But to his great surprise, the letter wasn't addressed to him.

_Mrs. Arabella Figg_

_12 Privet Drive_

_Little Winging, Surrey_

Harry felt his jaw drop, and Mrs. Figg cracked up again, this time dropping her head onto the table and pounding the tabletop with her frail-looking fist. He sat in silence until and long after she had regained her composure.

"Well Harry, I suppose you would have found out soon enough as it is. You should have seen your face," she squeaked, threatening to pitch another fit. "Bit early for your start-of-term letter, isn't it!"

"Er, yeah. Something like that," Harry mumbled. Never in all of his annual visits to Mrs. Figg's house had he ever heard her speak this way. Usually, she came off as very grand and very stuffy. Now she was acting like a young girl wearing an old lady costume. And certainly she had never let on that she was a witch! Suddenly he remembered the instructions Professor Dumbledore had given to Sirius at the end of the tragic Triwizard Tournament last year.

Harry looked at the address on the envelope again.

"Hang on, _you're_ Arabella Figg?"

"In the flesh, my dear," she quipped, mock-preening.

"Then you know Sirius Black, my godfather," he questioned excitedly. "At the end of the Triwizard Tournament last year, Professor Dumbledore told him to find you and some other people."

"That he did. Albus thought it wise, considering the circumstances, to hold a little reunion among some old friends," Mrs. Figg replied. "As a matter of fact, that letter may hold some information concerning that very meeting. Would you be so kind as to open it please, Harry."

If Harry felt uncomfortable opening someone else's mail, he didn't show it. Anxiously hoping for information about Sirius, he ripped open the envelope and unfolded the letter. He read the first two lines two himself before realizing that perhaps it was rude to read someone else's mail. As he made to hand the letter across the table, Mrs. Figg raised her palm.

"Would you please read it aloud, Harry. I'm afraid I've left my reading glasses inside," she said.

"Oh. Sure," he replied.

_Dearest Arabella,_

_Hopefully this finds you well. The 'Messenger' is now embedded at Hogwarts under his assumed form. Only a select few know of his true identity. Remus has also sent word that he, just as you and Mundungus, will be arriving on September 1. He will once again take up the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at my request. _

Harry's heart leapt. The 'Messenger' was definitely Sirius who was an Animagus and would most likely be wandering around Hogwarts as Snuffles aka. Padfoot, a large black sheepdog. Harry's favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin, would also be returning.__

_Rubeus and Olympe Maxime of Beauxbatons Academy have been sent with a peace treaty to the giants. Hagrid writes that he has a good reason to suspect that his mother is farther north than what we first understood, and by some good fortune we have been given a head-start on whatever dark powers are working against us. Severus has once again taken up his former duties, and I am darkly delighted to say he has been accepted with open arms. I have informed Cornelius of these doings, but he is once again unwilling to listen to reason._

_My dear Arabella, you understand now what serious matters face our council. It is unfortunate that we can no longer count on the support of the Ministry, or that of the school governors. As of yet, I have had no word from them on my position as Headmaster. Let us hope they understand the importance of my presence at Hogwarts during this trying time._

_Fawkes sends his regards, as do I._

_Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore_

"So, it looks like we'll be seeing each other again this year, Harry," said Mrs. Figg.

Harry and Mrs. Figg had a fairly enjoyable afternoon together. She turned out to be an exciting conversationalist and Harry laughed himself hoarse over her stories from her days at Hogwarts. She was much amused to hear about some of the exploits of Harry, Ron & Hermione as well. When the Dursleys arrived home, Harry was sorry to see the day end. 


	3. Birthday Regards

CHAPTER III -- Birthday Regards  
  
Harry watched the last few seconds of the day tick away on Dudley's old alarm clock. Nearly a month had passed since he had discovered that Mrs. Figg was a witch. During that time, he had spent as many days with her and away from the Dursleys as he could. Mrs. Figg seemed to genuinely enjoy his company.  
  
"I do get lonely without my cats," she had told him on his third visit.  
  
At this very moment Harry was swiftly nearing his fifteenth birthday. 5...4...3...2...1.  
  
"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me..." Harry whispered as he looked over the small pile of cards and gifts that had just been flown through his bedroom window by Hedwig, Ron's owl Pig, and two other owls he didn't recognize.  
  
He picked up a small package and saw what looked like Hagrid's messy scrawl. He tore open the box and found a letter on top of something tiny wrapped in tissue paper.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Happy fifteenth birthday! It seems like only yesterday I was giving you your Hogwarts letter.  
  
Your present is in the box. Olympe helped me pick it out. She ain't so bad once you get to know her. Anyway, it's called Thor's Hammer. It's an amulet that keeps you from getting burnt up by fire.  
  
Don't mean to spoil your birthday, but I've got some bad news and I thought it would be better coming from me than if you heard it later from someone else. I won't be teaching Care of Magical Creatures this year. Not to worry though, Harry. I'll be back before you know it. Dumbledore has trusted me and Olympe to do something pretty important this summer. Just keep out of trouble, and don't let Malfoy get you down. Together, you and Ron and Hermione are tough as dragon hide and I know you'll keep an eye out for each other. Someone will be looking after Fang for me while I'm away so you three don't go sneaking out at night to do it. I'll send you an owl or two when I can.  
  
Hagrid  
  
Harry, of course new all about what Hagrid had to do, but was still disappointed that he wouldn't be able to visit him after classes every day. He pulled the tiny wad of tissue paper out of the box and unwrapped it. A thin silvery chain and charm slithered out like water onto his palm. Harry held it up in the dim moonlight. The charm, shaped like a pickaxe, certainly wasn't pretty, but then neither was fire. He smiled into the darkness as he put the chain around his neck.  
  
Ron's gift next. It was a very thick, very wide envelope. Harry carefully tore the paper away at one end and a letter fell out.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Happy Birthday! That's awful what your Aunt did to your broomstick. She should be locked up, destroying a Firebolt! I hope it still flies. Charlie says he'll look at it for you to make sure it's okay.  
  
Percy knows someone in the Ministry Historical Society and you will never believe what he found. I hope you like it!  
  
Harry pulled what looked like a large framed photograph out of the envelope and held it in front of his face. He could see movement but couldn't make out anything else in the darkness. He flipped on his desk lamp and gasped in surprise. The photograph was of a Gryffindor quidditch team. Right in the center of the photograph, holding a shiny broomstick and waving was James Potter. Underneath each of the players there was a signature.  
  
"Wow, Ron," Harry whispered in amazement. He pulled the stand out of the back of the frame, placed the photo on his bedside table and picked up the letter again.  
  
Dumbledore wrote and told us it was okay for you to come now, but he's already made arrangements for someone to get you. We're not sure what he meant by that, but you're to meet whoever it is at the end of your street at noon the day after tomorrow. Dad's worried and he says if there's any trouble with the Muggles, send us an owl and we'll come and get you personally.  
  
Here's some great news! Hermione and I have been made prefects. We got our letters today. Mum was crying, she was so happy. There are four new fifth- year prefects chosen every year. Neither of us know who the other two are, so we're hoping one's you.  
  
Angelina Johnson has been writing to Fred a lot, but he won't admit that she's his girlfriend.  
  
Hope to see you soon!  
  
Ron  
  
Harry gazed happily at the photograph on his nightstand as he picked up a package from Hermione. He was glad that Ron had made prefect after years of being overshadowed by his older brothers. Hermione was by far the cleverest witch at Hogwarts and she deserved to be prefect more than anyone.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Happy Birthday! Guess what? Ron and I are prefects! Harry, I just know you'll get your letter too. They can't make us prefects without you.  
  
Ron told me about your broomstick. I know I saw something about repairing damage to broomsticks in 1001 Magical Cures For Faulty Magical Instruments. I'll look it up for you when we get back to school.  
  
There hasn't been one single story from Rita Skeeter over the summer. I spent two weeks at Viktor's--  
  
"Viktor's?" Harry thought, confused.  
  
--and when I got back I looked in the Daily Prophet and there was nothing. Apparently she's keeping her word on keeping her quill to herself. There hasn't been anything about the Tournament or Cedric either. The Ministry is still keeping it quiet I suppose. Anyway, I'm going to Ron's at the end of this week. Hope to see you there!  
  
Hermione  
  
Harry realized with a start that Hermione must have accepted Viktor Krum's invitation to visit him over the summer. He wondered vaguely if she had told Ron. He opened her package which turned out to contain one big, sticky chocolate cake with marshmallow icing. Harry ate a piece immediately, blessing Hermione's mother with every rich, gooey bite, before reaching for the final package. It was a smallish package with a thick wad of letters on top tied together with a thin black ribbon. The first letter was from Sirius.  
  
Happy Birthday Harry,  
  
In case this letter is intercepted, I can't tell you where I am, only that you will find out soon enough. I understand you've met Arabella Figg. She has been a dear and trusted friend of mine since my days at Hogwarts when she was the Care of Magical Creatures professor. In light of Hagrid's absence, Dumbledore has asked her to come out of retirement and take over that position until he returns.  
  
Enclosed is your birthday present. It may appear to be a book, but I assure you it is not. The cover is bound in woven unicorn hair which gives the book it's own special power. Place any object between two pages in this book and it will be sucked in. A small picture of the object will appear on one of the pages. To retrieve the object you need only reach in and grab it from the page. The book can carry almost anything you can fit the pages around and will become no heavier, no matter how much you put into it.  
  
Sirius  
  
P.S. - Before you get any bright ideas I should tell you it doesn't work on people.  
  
Harry smiled. How did Sirius know he was thinking maybe he could trap Draco Malfoy between two pages and then carry him to the lake and throw him in? Harry was delighted that he would be seeing Sirius very soon and also to hear that Mrs. Figg would be teaching Care of Magical Creatures. He opened the small package and found the book, bound in smooth shimmery, almost metallic silver material. The book was filled with blank pages. Harry looked around for something to try it on. He seized his desk lamp, opened the book and closed it again around the neck of the lamp. Instantly the lamp was gone and his room was thrown into semi darkness once again.  
  
"Way to go, stupid," he mumbled to himself as stepped over to the window where the bright moonlight was pouring in between the curtains. He opened the book and there on the first page was a tiny silvery picture of his desk lamp. Harry touched the picture, but found that he did not feel the paper. Instead he felt cold metal. He pinched his thumb and forefinger around the now tiny neck of the lamp and pulled. Suddenly he was holding his desk lamp in one hand and the book in the other.  
  
Harry spent the next thirty minutes putting things into the book's pages and pulling them out again. He was just trying to suck up his bed when he remembered that there were other letters with Sirius's present. He flopped down on the bed and untied the ribbon wrapped around the letters. The second letter was not a letter at all, but rather a home-made birthday card from his House Elf friend Dobby. Dobby had finger-painted broomsticks, snitches, a very mean-looking red lion and 'Hapie Birtday Harry" in blue on a blank piece of parchment. Harry chuckled and tacked the card on his wall just beside the calendar he used to keep track of the days left until September first. He turned his attention back to the other envelopes.  
  
One of the remaining letters had the Hogwarts crest stamped on the back. Harry assumed this was his start-of-term letter and left it for last. However, the envelope he now opened contained what he assumed was in the other. His confusion growing, he read over his book list and then threw it aside wondering what could be in the last envelope. He ripped it open and pulled out a very official-looking letter.  
  
Dear Mr. Harry Potter  
  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected as Gryffindor prefect for the following school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
As you well know, prefection carries with it certain responsibilities such as upholding and enforcing school rules within your house, bearing aid to the professors and staff when needed and displaying a positive and upstanding example for younger and older students alike.  
  
Enclosed you will find a prefect badge. Congratulations!  
  
Sincerely, Minerva McGonnagal Deputy Headmistress Head of Gryffindor House Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry  
  
If the Dursleys hadn't been in the house, Harry would have shouted. He did however, jump off of his bed and do a few silent bounds around the room, dancing in glee. He was a prefect! He, Ron & Hermione were prefects! He dumped the badge out of the envelope, pinned it onto his pajamas and did a sort of half pose, half strut in front of his mirror. He then sat down at his desk and scratched out thank-you letters to Hagrid, Sirius, Ron, Hermione and Dobby. He bound the letters to Sirius and Dobby together with the same ribbon and opened Hedwig's cage.  
  
"I've got a whole bunch of letters for you to deliver, Hedwig," Harry said tying the letters onto her leg and stroking her milky-white back. "I don't know how far away Hagrid is, but if it takes more than two days, I'll be at Ron's."  
  
Anxious for a chance to stretch her wings, Hedwig ruffled her feathers and nipped Harry's elbow reassuringly and then flew out the open window into the starry sky. He watched her out of sight and then, realizing how late it was, went to his desk and gathered up all of the letters. He tied them together with an old shoelace and closed them in the unicorn hair book, grinning as the letters disappeared instantly. He slid the book under his pillow and fell fast asleep still smiling. 


End file.
